In a Cornfield Crimson
by Krysanthe
Summary: Sam and Dean travel to Smallville to investigate possible supernatural murders. Yet, they find something even more wicked is going on. Supernatural X Smallville crossover [On hiatus]
1. Chapter 1

Into a Cornfield Crimson

**Chapter One**

_Devour_

It was inevitable.

Unstoppable.

And completely,

desirable.

The young man's breath puffed out like a locomotive chugging on bricks beneath her. She supposed the breath was hot or perhaps husky and soft. Neither would have left an impression.

She could not feel it.

Her pink tongue sloshed into the crevices in the deep of his mouth. The young man would have moaned deeper if not glancing at the mouth of his current tryst.

His first impulse was to scream.

Horribly.

However, the primary function for that had hours ago been promptly severed. Caught up in the swirls of passion, a paralysis had gripped his body. His eyeballs could only anxiously rotate taking in the horror movie unfolding on his naked body.

The jaw of his paramour simply dangled by fleshy strings of her peaches and cream complexion. Her slender white hands were delicately playful as they ravaged into his abdomen seemingly knitting the meaty cords of his intestines

He laughed inwardly as his innards splashed out. Disturbing: His entrails were messing her beautiful aquamarine mini skirt. He'd never be able to afford a replacement.

As his thoughts spun into the throes of death's sweet rush, the rustling of the corn stalks behind them caused the young woman to pause.

The young woman turned and squinted into the twilight. The rustling noise slowly produced a wealthy young man in neatly black pressed khaki and deep midnight collared blue shirt beneath his expensive black jacket.

He had a flashlight in hand which light circled lazily until it rested on the involved couple. The intruder's nose seemed to crinkle in slight disgust.

The young man was able to recognize the rich young man. He knew him. But the fog of death was crowding him.

The man was. . . Something L . . . His mind failed to bring up the name completely.

"Well?" The young man directed to the young woman.

The woman shook her head and ran her tongue over her dangling jaw.

The young man looked even more disgusted.

"Please. I just enjoyed a moderately good meal for once. Just make sure you clean this up when you're done," he stated, calmly.

The girl nodded.

"And pull yourself together," he added sharply eying the messed dress. He continued to frown and ran hand over his bald head.

He had felt a sudden wetness on his bare head. He looked up and smiled a the dark cloudy sky of Kansas.

"Looks like we're in for a big bad storm. I think that will work to our advantage tonight," he mused, aloud.

The young woman again did not answer but turned back to the corpse.

The cornstalks rustled as the rich young man sank back into them. The young woman turned to stare at the man's departure and her azure eyes flashed in the sudden strike of lightening.

Eyes that completely colored a liquid ebony.

Another flash of lightening and the beautiful azure eyes returned and the girl turned back once again.

For, the devouring had only begun.


	2. Chapter 2

Into a Cornfield Crimson

**Chapter Two**

_Collision_

"Sammy, you've gone and sent us to the cornfield haven't you?"

"What!"

"I mean, I know you got the 'shining' but damn, this is too much!"

"Excuse me, for getting us lost. You're the one who wanted to check out these murders in what's it called . . . _Smallvill_e. I was all for a one way drive into Metropolis."

"Hey, my super supernatural senses were tingling. These gruesome murders sound like some uber Casper bitch been munching on some poor guys. Besides, you're the one who decided to get directions from Mr. Country Senile awhile back."

Sam scoffed as his eyes pored over the map in front of him. Dean noted amusingly that his jaw jutted out like it usually did when his younger brother was frustrated beyond words.

The only remedy Dean saw of course was to agitate him more. It's just more fun that way.

"I mean, god didn't we just pass through this cornfield. I'm afraid we'll never see sweet civilization again."

"Dean."

"I wish I'd gotten laid at the last town we were in."

"Dean!"

"I know! That waitress clearly had a thing for me. Free blueberry pie every night. And how 'bout that turkey, huh? That sucker was–"

"Dean, watch out!"

Their beloved Impala suddenly collided into an object hurdling in front of them from the hundred rows of corn. Dean's right arm instinctively shot out to hold his brother back as they jerked forward. Thankfully, the seatbelts absorbed most of the impact.

Dean turned his neck to check for pain but it seemed all right. He unbuckled quickly to check Sam over, who appeared dazed.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean questioned, anxiously.

Sam seemed to snap back and pushed away Dean's hand. "Fine, fine."

Dean leaned back in his seat and let out a long breath. "What'd I hit? A cow?"

Sam leaned forward and squinted out the windshield. "Uh . . . Oh my god, that lump I think it's a person!"

"You think!"

Dean threw the car door open and got out. He was expecting, with much dread, to see a prone bloody body. His fists tightened and he couldn't stop them from trembling.

Only to find . . . nothing

"Sammy, you're one sick son of a bitch."

Sam was gasping on the side of the car laughing. "Man, you were shaking!"

"I'm surprised you find someone's life in possible peril funny," Dean retorted, inspecting his car.

Sam stopped laughing and turned serious. "Dean, I saw that thing move. No way, was it a person. I'm thinking your senses were right."

"Huh, well first we got to see to my baby. Look it's bent up here up front. Damn. Of all the places and things we been through, it gets damaged out in the middle of nowhere," Dean said, angrily.

"Car accident? Looks like you've just been initiated boys."

Dean and Sam whirled around to find a petite but sturdy blond behind them.

"Whoa. Where'd you come from?" Dean asked, suspiciously.

The girl smiled brightly.

"Relax, I'm a native. My name is Chloe Sullivan. My new piece of crap broke down a little ways back. And car trouble is an unfortunate regular occurrence in Smallville."

"Is it?" Dean asked, an eyebrow raised.

"And other weird events. So who are you and what happened to your somewhat cool looking car?" Chloe continued.

Sam smiled. " I'm Sam Winchester. This is my brother, Dean. And we hit . . . something."

"Yeah, I'm the older and cuter one. So any idea what might have happened . . . Chloe?" Dean said, ending his question with a little special smile he reserved for especially cute girls.

Chloe rolled her eyes but still couldn't help smiling in return.

"Well, welcome to Smallville, Sam and Dean. I just might have a few ideas."

* * *

Well, that's the first two chapters of my story. Hope you enjoyed it. Chapter 3 should be coming along soon. Clark will make an appearance in the next chapter also. Reviews are appreciated! 


	3. Chapter 3

Into a Cornfield Crimson

**Chapter Three**

_Consumed_

Lois Lane was not having a good day.

The overpowering scents of cappuccino and cinnamon in the Talon stuck up into her senses like Elmer's glue congealing over cheap construction paper. She could barely move her head as every shift sent a throbbing pulse of pain that left her squinting and temple rubbing with a vengeance.

And as an additional bonus, a nasty bout of insomnia has robbed of her usual cheerful sarcastic attitude to a drier and tired sarcastic attitude.

I don't even want to look in a mirror. I'd give myself seven years bad luck, she mused darkly.

Lois blinked heavily and rubbed her eyes as she put down coffee. Her usually bright eyes seemed to have been possessed by a corpse's dry and vein coated eeriness.

Yes, it was not a good day.

Of course, more irritants in her environment were already adding to the horror. A small town asshole was now pawing up her hard worked perky butt.

"Hey, how 'bout you adding some of your sugar to this here drink, honey?" the jerk asked, perversely.

She wanted to curse him out and twist his hand. But how would their customer friendly image survive that?

So, she simply glared and shoved aside his hand. But his shameless touch still clung to her as she swept between tables. It weighed her steps as feelings of utter frustration gripped her.

She should have snapped his dirty hand back and disabled his wandering libido. Yet, she held back.

She _accepted_ it as something she must endure.

"Where the hell is my cup of joe!" A young, whiny customer called out.

College midterms were bringing in the worst and wigged out of the population. Of course, they had to be short-staffed today.

"Just my dumb luck," Lois mumbled, as she grabbed a rag to clean the sticky counter.

She swiped at the muffin counter angrily. When did she become like this? Accepting of other people's crap.

Sometimes, it felt as she was being consumed by something large and inevitable. Perhaps, even unstoppable. Maybe she wanted to be punished for all her recent rebellious teen hang ups for the last years. Smoking, ditching classes, and ultimately dropping out of college.

Maybe it was her own karma screwing her over. Lois sniffed. Oh, god no. Water was starting to gather in the pit of her eyelids. She wiped her eyes in one hard rub.

You. Will. Not. Cry. She snarled to her herself.

But the Talon seemed to become blurrier and blurrier as the summons of caffeine depraved people assaulted her.

That's when the somewhat lofty but feminine voice spoke out of nowhere.

"Nasty, isn't it? These people. Like zombies out for your fresh throbbing brain matter."

Lois fumbled with the plastic cup lids she was taking out and set them down quickly. She took a deep breath to calm herself and turned to address her customer.

The young blonde haired woman was about her own age or maybe a bit older with a boyish haircut. She looked like she could audition as the next Peter Pan on Broadway.

"I'm sorry. Can I help you?" Lois asked, hoping she was faking cheery good enough.

"No need to pretend in front of me, Lois. I'm here to brighten your day," the girl smiled and grasped Lois's free hand as if to inspect it as she brought it close to her face.

"Sorry, you're not my type. But if you pick up a tray and help out, I might just lay a smooch on you," Lois answered, tiredly.

The girl released her hand and laughed softly.

"You misunderstand. You see my father needs some more bodies for his work. And frankly, I think you would be an excellent choice."

Lois suddenly felt life seep back into her body. This sounded like a job offer, she thought excited.

Lois lowered her voice and asked "Are you from a talent agency?"

"Something like that. Let's have ourselves a quick chat in the back about it."

Lois looked out a the busy café and decided right then. "Let's go. A few minutes of absence shouldn't make a difference."

Lois lead the way to the back where supplies are kept. She felt oddly claustrophobic among the crates of coffee beans and prepackaged goods. If felt as she was being closed in.

"So, you seemed to know me already. Who are you?" Lois asked, once she closed the door behind her.

But the girl's head was bowed and she appeared to be muttering to herself.

"Excuse me?" Lois said. She was starting to getting freak vibes off this girl.

The girl ceased her muttering and raised her head.. It was only a spilt second but Lois was a sharp one and she caught the girl's eyes.

"Whoa! Where'd your pupils go, ah–!"

Lois's words snapped off as she suddenly breathed in a thick substance. It seemed to tornado into her nostrils and her insides screamed as if she was being sawed into.

A voice echoed into her mind . . . Cold . . . Welcoming . . . Soothing . . . An intruder plowing through memories like snapping branches off a tree .

The experience could neatly be summed up in word: consumed.

The more she struggled the more blood freezing pain. She should give up, she told herself. It's karma smacking her down. She should just stop struggling.

Yeah. Like hell, she was gonna do that.

Lois's body arched up and down like a doll being yanked out of a couch cushion The young woman watching the struggle shivered as if she could hear Lois's anguished howl.

But after another full minute, Lois's body seemed to deflate quietly. It was still.

Then like a flower in bloom, Lois raised her head with eyes bright and shining.

"Took you long enough," the blonde haired girl remarked, drily.

"This young woman put quite a bit of resistance. I don't think she was such a good choice," Lois who was no longer Lois, answered.

The blonde smirked and gestured to her body. "Well, you can't hit the jackpot every time."

"Let's go contact Father, " Lois said, disregarding the girl's comment.

The girl glowered at Lois's back. Ungrateful bitch, she inwardly cursed.

Lois paused in her tracks and spoke coldly.

"And sister . . . _Meg_, I'll do the talking."

* * *

Yay, demon possessed Lois! I thought it might be fun to have an evil Lois in the story. Anyway, sorry for the slow update! The next chapter will definitely be up faster.

And Clark will finally show up in the story next time definitely. Don't worry I haven't forgot about Chloe, Dean and Sam either. Please, continue to read. Reviews are very appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

Into a Cornfield Crimson

**Chapter Four**

_Hidden_

"I'm drowning in papers. Literally."

Clark Kent sat frowning at his kitchen table surrounded by books and notebook paper. His laptop displayed the WordPerfect program and his cell phone was shut off for the foreseeable future.

He ran a hand threw his dark charcoal locks as his clear blue eyes darted between open book and white notebook paper. His scribbles were unfortunately becoming unreadable in his hurry. At this rate, it'll look like his alien language, he mused.

Martha Kent smiled at her swamped college son. She was washed in a tingling joy that he was alive to sit at the table and simply worry about the mundane rigors of college life.

"It can't be all that bad," Martha answered, as she peeled some potatoes for their upcoming dinner.

"Oh, yes it is. I was just considering it'd be easier to fight some krypto freaks than tackle four near due midterm papers."

"Why don't you give Chloe a call? She can help you out."

"Mom, I can't have Chloe thinking for me all the time. Besides, I couldn't reach her."

"Well, I hope she's all right. Especially, with everything that has been going on."

Clark raised his head inquiring. "What's been going on?"

Martha inwardly scolded herself. How could she be so dumb? She smiled and just shook her head. However, Clark, the big stubborn alien that he is, was not letting it go.

"What have you and dad not been telling me?" Clark asked, eyes narrowed.

Martha put down her knife and sighed deeply. "Look, Clark. You've gone through a lot recently since returning from the dead, getting your powers back and trying to manage your relationship with Lana. You didn't need a murder mystery to look into also."

"I'm an adult now, Mom. I think I have a choice of how much I believe I can handle," Clark stated, flatly.

Martha looked at him for a moment longer and made a decision. She went over to one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out some newspaper. She walked back to the kitchen table and placed the paper in front of her son.

"For the past month, five corpses have been found out in the cornfields. The victims aren't connected in any way except for the situation leading to their death. The story is backed up from cell phone calls. The victims were driving between fields when they have some sort of car trouble, which isn't exactly uncommon in Smallville. However, no one hears from them again. At least alive, that is," Martha explains.

Clark nodded and pored over the articles.

"This isn't pretty. Their remains are found in pieces as if they were gnawed and feasted on. The jaw prints are too small for a ferocious animal. It says the teeth marks resemble a human."

Martha sighed. "Your father felt you would definitely get into this."

"I hate to say this but I'm thinking this might be the work of someone infected with kryptonite," Clark reasoned.

"I know. Just don't push yourself too hard, sweetheart. I don't want you patrolling the county all night when it could just be some crazed cannibal. The police need to do some work for once, " Martha said, firmly.

"Cannibals or krypto empowered people, I can't do nothing. I mean I can't just sit here and write about dead writers and horny English kings," Clark said, with a lopsided grin.

"You most certainly could. And you should," Martha responded, smiling.

Clark snapped on his cell and grabbed his trademark red jacket. He reached over and hugged his mom tightly.

"I'll try and be home in time for dinner," Clark promised.

"You better. Or your father is gonna roast me for telling you about this."

Martha gazed after Clark still worried as the door swung from the gust of Clark's superspeed. She shook her head and was about to return to her potatoes when a voice interrupted her.

"Holy cow, did you just feel that freak wind whip by?"

Martha twisted her head back toward the door. Lois Lane stood in the doorway with a young woman beside her.

"Hi, Lois. I see you brought a new friend. You girls come on in," Martha greeted, over her shoulder.

Meg wiggled her fingers in a small gesture of hello and sauntered in after Lois. She glanced around taking in the atmosphere of the Kent home.

"Wow. It's like got this whole catalog home thing going on," she said.

Martha smiled at Meg. "Thanks. I hope so. I do enough cleaning daily to at least get it looking respectable enough."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I haven't introduced myself. I'm Meg," Meg said, offering her hand to shake.

Martha took her hand firmly and shaking in response when Lois came between them abruptly. Before Martha could move, a sudden jab of pain rocketed from her wrist and shot up her arm.

Martha gasped as she let go of Meg's hand. She stumbled back against the kitchen counter clutching her wrist. The blood was running all over her arm. But Martha wiped some away to quickly see the damage on her wrist:

It was slit open.

At that point, Lois with her military fight knowledge, performed a kick that swiftly dropped Martha to the floor.

Meg glared at Lois. "I was gonna slit her throat. Don't you think this is a tad too messy, sister?"

"You take too damn long. Just collect the blood so we can contact Father," Lois answered.

Meg crouched down on Martha's legs to hold her down her struggling form. She placed an ancient cup beside the woman and placed the bleeding wrist over the cup. Blood began to collect into the cup at a moderately swift pace.

Martha's eyes rolled desperately over toward Lois. "Help!" she gasped.

Lois knelt down beside her and took Martha's other wrist. She placed the dirty peeling knife against the creamy white wrist.

"I'm sorry. Lois isn't available right now but if you want to leave a message I suggest it's gonna have to be done in the afterlife," Lois answered, sing song like.

Martha screamed shrilly as Lois very carefully dragged the knife over her wrist. It was like slicing open a hot cherry pie and watching the filling gurgle out.

The blood loss stole the color from Martha's face and she sagged flat against the floor.

Splashes of Martha's blood had sprayed like wild graffiti over Lois's face. Lois pressed one of Martha's thin wet fingers to the blood on her cheek then moved the finger to her mouth.

"Mmm. You taste like good old Kansas potato, Martha Kent."

"Father is waiting," Meg announced. She stood up and placed the cup on the counter.

Martha's released hand flapped around like a dead fish. Weak, drained, and cold . . . Martha continued to struggle.

"Tsk. It appears you and Mr. Kent both share a strong determination. But, I've got business to discuss. I can't have you flaying about, distracting me," Lois said.

Lois ground her heel into the palm of Martha's hand. Martha's back arched at the pain and her scream was coated with salvia oozing out like long strands of thick hair.

Lois stepped over Martha's agonized body and Meg slid the cup over to her.

"Hello, Father . . . Yes . . . Yes . . . It is hidden here. That is correct . . . It is here also? . . . And them? . . . Not a problem . . . We understand."

Lois raised her head from the cup. Meg tried to scrutinize her passive face but could not gather anything. What a poker face, she thought disgusted.

"What did Father say?" Meg asked, impatiently.

"The Winchester brats are here in Smallville," Lois answered. She went to the sink and wet a towel to wipe the splattered blood off her borrowed flesh.

"I'll handle them. It's been awhile since I've seen sweet Sammy," Meg said, immediately.

Lois frowned as she rubbed a stubborn spot on her elbow. "Don't be an idiot. I'll get the Winchesters. If the boys see you, they'll be alerted to Father's activity here. You know what's hidden here. We cannot let our enemies get it."

Meg's eyes narrowed. "It hasn't got here already, has it?"

Lois sighed and threw the bloody towel in the trash. "Yes, sister. The Devour has begun its harvest. Father informs me that his ancient enemy has procured some special rock in this area to assist its children in breeding. It must not be allowed to succeed. While I tangle with the boys, you find its current fleshy host."

"Where do I start?"

"A wealthy young man . . . named Lex Luthor."

* * *

Oh, no poor Martha, lol. And will Clark reach Chloe and the boys before Demon Lois? Find out in my next chapter, which will hopefully be posted soon.

Also, a quick note about the time this fic takes place. In Smallville verse, it is early season five after Clark got back his powers. In Supernatural verse, it's near the end of first season after they discovered Meg is demon possessed and of course haven't killed her yet. Just in case, you get confused about Clark's father being alive and stuff.

And many thanks to those who have reviewed so far!!!


	5. Chapter 5

Into a Cornfield Crimson

**Chapter Five**

_Identity_

Sam Winchester stretched his aching head out the window of the Impala and let the cool wind hopefully pummel the pain to smithereens.

It seemed the farther they traveled the more his head rhythmically throbbed and dulled his senses. It was as if he was being suffocated from within by a multitude of cotton balls.

He leaned back into the Impala just as Dean was trying to charm their temporary but cute passenger in the backseat.

"And how old are you? Like 30?" Chloe asked, an eyebrow raised.

"30? With a face like this? Are you sober? 'Cause we can hose you down with some reality. Like right now."

"I don't know. You were throwing out some very antiquated pick up lines," Chloe answered, grinning.

Before Dean could make a snappy comeback, Sam butted into the conversation.

"So, Chloe . . . you go to school around here?" Sam asked, as Dean gave him the old Evil Eye.

"Nope, this fortunate Smallville resident goes to the illustrious Metropolis University," Chloe said, proudly displaying her college ID.

Sam perked up in interest. "Met U? Wow. They have some really exciting programs going on there."

"I know. I'm a journalism major and I couldn't have asked for a better curriculum. And the library . . . it's amazing," Chloe continued.

"Ugh. College geek talk," Dean grumbled.

"What's your major?" Chloe asked Sam, ignoring Dean's grumbling.

"Pre-law. I, uh, I was attending Stanford," Sam stated, his words dropping off quietly. The stuffy cotton ball feeling was welling up inside him again.

"Stanford? Wait. Am I in the company of a certified genius?"

"He wishes," Dean said, as Chloe kneed the back of his seat at the remark.

Sam couldn't respond.

His skull felt like cracking into a thousand pieces. Pressure to the point of boiling sent spasms down to his toes. Sam clutched his stomach as the slam of nausea over took of him.

Dean caught his brother's twisted look of sickness and stopped the car immediately. It was obvious that his brother was being attacked by a vision. Though it has never been this bad that Sam looked like he was gonna puke. Either way best not let Chloe in on that family secret.

"Whoa, the return of Sammy's dreaded car sickness of youth. I'll go to the trunk and get some bottled water. You go barf outside the car, please." Dean ordered, reaching over Sam and unlocking the door.

"Shut up," Sam muttered, sourly as he got out.

"He looks really bad. More than just car sick," Chloe said aloud. He looks like Clark when he's hit with kryptonite, she thought concerned.

Chloe got out of the car and took Sam's arm as he heaved into the dry field grass. It was as Chloe came to his side she saw a familiar color. A glowing green at the root of the corn stalks. It was an unmistakable effect of kryptonite. Not good.

Chloe placed her palm on Sam's wet forehead. Sam immediately crumpled to the ground after a spasm of pain ripped through his skull. Chloe gripped his shoulder in worry. Maybe he was infected . . .

Before she could ponder more, an object pressed firmly into the back of her head. Cold. Heavy. If she pushed her head back an inch, she'd have one hell of a headache.

"Step away from my brother."

That was no flirty comment, Chloe thought alarmed. Dean's voice was unmistakably hard and flat. She couldn't turn to see his eyes but from that voice Chloe knew Dean would not hesitate to put a hole in her head.

She took a deep breath and said very carefully: "Dean, I'm not the bad guy, er, girl here. But I have to ask. Has your brother ever visited Smallville before? Those meteor rocks I mentioned earlier? They have a strange effect on–"

"Shut up! I know what's inside you. We've tracked you out here. Demon possessed perhaps. You don't seem like a ghost. Well it doesn't matter right now what evil thing you are. I don't know how you're doing it. But you will stop hurting Sam right _now_!"

Chloe felt suddenly bewildered in her peril. Ghosts? Evil thing? Tracking me?

"Okay, I think you got me mixed up with something else. Maybe with the thing that took away your sanity?"

Before Dean could respond, Sam spoke up once he had stopped decorating the Kansas countryside with his previous lunch.

"Dean, chill. She's not doing this."

Chloe suddenly felt indignant at the whole situation. "Look you saw my college id! If anything I should be asking who the hell you two are," she snapped.

She felt the gun in her hair twitch then move away. Chloe whipped around and pushed her mace in front of Dean's face.

Dean raised his hands and chuckled.

"Okaaay. Demons don't carry girly defense weapons. I believe you," Dean said.

Chloe's mouth quirked a bit but she lowered the mace. "Demons?"

"You didn't think we bought your meteor rock bull, did you? It's some supernatural nasty out in these fields that's killing folk," Dean said, crouching down beside Sam.

"Who are you? Cause you know I didn't buy that crop inspector story. And all those unsubtle questions about the recent murders you swept by me. Talk about suspicious," Chloe demanded.

Dean didn't answer as he was completely focused on his brother.

Sam weakly got to his feet as Dean supported him.

"You had a vision?" Dean whispered, out the corner of his mouth.

Sam nodded which didn't help the skull splitting pain. He took a deep breath and said "There's something out in these fields, Dean. Deep. Hidden. And man, is it pretty awful."

"You get the visual on the evil bastard?" Dean asked, directing Sam back to the Impala.

Sam's brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to piece together withering images of violence.

Dean's heart raged to see his brother so wacked out by this psychic whammy stuff. Dean could pack a lot of metal and salt into various evil things but he couldn't protect his brother from this horrible "gift."

Chloe did not miss the flicker of vulnerable expression on Dean's face and decided to withhold any further verbal onslaught.

She opened the door for Sam and helped Dean ease him in. Chloe and Dean were alone as soon as Dean closed the car door.

"Listen, whatever you guys are out here to do, I'm more than willing to help. But you have to trust me," Chloe said, carefully.

Dean stared down into her determined eyes.

"Huh. Doesn't look like I should even bother getting Sammy to dissuade you with his puppy dog eyes then," Dean stated, grinning.

Chloe smiled. "Nope. But I'm very interested in investigating Sam's eyes later."

Dean's face soured. "Yuck. Just, yuck."

"Hey, guys there's a car approaching us. We should move out the way," Sam called, as he rolled down the window.

"So, what do you two ghostbusters think is killing people?" Chloe asked, as she reached for the car door.

"Jeepers Creepers," Dean stated, with a completely serious face.

Chloe goggled at him. "That thing's real?"

Dean didn't answer but winked as he slid into the car.

The guy's pulling my leg, Chloe thought disgusted, as she got in.

"Why aren't we moving already?" Chloe asked, irritated.

Dean gunned the engine again but got no response but a few sputters.

"C'mon, baby," Dean muttered.

"I, think that car up ahead isn't slowing down," Sam said, worried.

Chloe leaned forward and saw the oncoming car swerving madly but still dead on in their direction.

And her heart nearly stopped when she recognized the crazy driver.

"Lois?" she gasped.

Actually, she shouldn't be surprised with her track record for automobile accidents. But, still.

This was simply crazy.

"You know the crazy driver?" Dean said, struggling with the engine.

Deciding action was better than more talk, Chloe got out the car and waved her arms madly at her cousin.

If anything, this made Lois drive _faster_.

Before she knew it, Sam was at her side pulling her away from the Impala. Dean stayed in the car struggling to get it started. He hit the steering wheel frustrated.

"C'mon, Dean!" Sam called.

Dean reluctantly came out as Lois barreled ever closer.

He shook his head as he joined them. "What's with this town and its need to destroy really cool cars? Man, I can't even watch."

It seemed it was not yet time for the Impala's death as a sudden gust of wind whipped by their faces and a figure in red and blue halted Lois's car just a few feet away.

"What . . . who is that?" Sam asked, shocked.

Chloe merely smiled in relief.

It was Clark Kent.

"Dean. Dean! Open your eyes," Sam said, elbowing his brother.

"How bad is it Sammy? Give it to me straight. I can . . . What? Where'd the flannel wearing kid come from?"

"He stopped the car, Dean."

"Naw. Really?"

"Yes."

"Damn . . . We need some of whatever this kid has been fed."

Clark looked uneasy at the unexpected spectators but focused on the car's driver.

"Lois?" he called.

Clark opened the door and found her head resting on the steering wheel. No blood but a small bruise was forming. And she was breathing well.

"Is Lois okay?" Chloe asked, behind him.

"Yeah. It looks like she just got knocked out. I'm glad you're okay, too. But more important, who are these guys?" Clark asked.

"I think they're ghost hunters or exorcists."

"Now we've seen everything," Clark remarked, drily.

"Hey, thanks for saving my brother's car. I'm Sam."

Sam had come over and stuck out his hand. Clark smiled and shook it.

"So, are you infected with these meteor rocks Chloe's told us about?" Sam inquired.

"Something like that. Are you guys really ghostbusters?" Clark asked, in return.

Sam grinned. "Yeah, something like that. That's my brother, Dean. Dean, you gonna come over with the rest of us?"

Dean merely looked skeptical. "Man, what if he's like radioactive or something?"

Chloe sucked in her cheeks to keep from laughing as Sam rolled his eyes.

"Don't be an idiot," Sam chided.

"I'm just saying! You never know," Dean replied.

Clark sighed and reassured him. "I'm 100 percent radioactive free."

Also, 100 percent not of this earth, Clark thought jokingly to himself.

Dean nodded. The kid employed a kind of trust me vibe thing. Kind of like Sam.

Chloe smiled.

"Okay, now that we're all more or less chummy. Let's saddle up. Cause evil is about to meet its match."

The boys stared.

"Okay, maybe that was a bit too cheesy. But you know what I meant."

* * *

Okay, that's it for this chapter. Thank you so much for reading. Remember that reviews are very welcome. And hopefully, the next chapter will be up before Thanksgiving, lol. 


	6. Chapter 6

Into A Cornfield Crimson

**Chapter Six**

_Friction_

"Well, I started up our EMF meter a few minutes ago. And the readings are something crazy. There's definitely some paranormal activity out here," Dean said, with the device in hand.

"EMF?" Clark asked, peering at the handmade gadget.

"It's an electromagnetic instrument that measures the activity of ghosts and other otherworldly bogies," Sam said, leaning against the Impala.

"This definitely backs up the vision I just had. Something is hidden under this country ground. Maybe this was a site for an ancient pagan ritual," he continued.

Chloe smiled at Sam. "I'm way ahead of you on that one. These particular cornfields were once in the possession of a Mr. Arthur Draven. During the early Depression era, Draven's crop were oddly quite in abundance. Many of the townsfolk speculated he was involved with black magic or satanic rituals. I was just on my way back from talking to one of his descendants who unfortunately didn't appreciate my journalistic interest. I was lucky to get that much."

"Hey, why didn't you let us in on that earlier?" Dean asked.

"Well, you certainly weren't being upfront with me. Trust works both ways," Chloe said, pointedly.

"So, these recent deaths are all part of some sacrifice?" Clark asked.

"Or more to the point is that the demonic bastard that was getting its daily sacrifice has now woken up and is getting it's munch on," Dean said, heading for the trunk of his car.

"The One that Devours," Sam remarked, in a soft voice.

Chloe unconsciously shivered. Sam's words were on the borderline of creepy or extremely cheesy. The goosebumps on her arms were backing up the theory on creepy.

"Devour?" Dean called, while he lifted up a gun.

Sam nodded with a grim face. "The word is practically burned into my brain. A nice little remnant from my earlier vision."

"We need to stop whatever it is. But I don't think you two should go guns blazing out into the fields. Someone could get hurt," Clark said.

Dean hefted his rifle on his shoulder and winked. "Don't worry, farm boy. We're professional hunters. You may be wheatied up but we got some skills of our own. Feel free to go home and milk your cows."

Chloe saw Clark's face clouding with unmistakable disagreement and decided she better defuse an argument before it happened.

"Clark, why don't you just super speed Lois back home? She may need medical attention. I'll stay here with Dean and Sam to search."

Clark pulled Chloe away a little bit and whispered "Are you crazy? We may not be in the usual krypto freak element here. I don't want to leave you alone out here with our "new" friends."

Chloe shook her head stubbornly. "Clark, there's some kryptonite stalks affected out here. I'm more worried for _you_ than me."

Clark seemed to struggle internally for a moment but his trust in Chloe overcame his anxiety for her safety.

"All right. But anything happens you make sure to stay out of the line of fire."

"Hey, guys! Hate to interrupt but I don't see your cousin in the car anymore," Sam called, peering into the driver's side of Lois' car.

"What? She shouldn't be moving around with a head wound," Chloe said, moving to Sam's side.

"Looks like she vanished or something," Sam noted, frowning.

A sudden drop in temperature was felt by all them in the sunny daylight. In addition, the small breeze began to pick up in its intensity and stung them like a bee on flesh.

"I've got a bad feeling about all of this," Clark said, his dark hair rising.

"Is it scary movie bad feeling or the bad feeling of a blossoming cavity?" Chloe asked, as more irksome goose bumps crept up her arms.

"I'm going for both," Sam answered, pulling out a gun from beneath his jacket.

Clark turned his head slowly from side to side as he employed his super hearing to try to pinpoint the enemy. But all he could pick up was the thunderous beating of his companion's hearts.

Dean cocked his gun at the row of cornstalks to his right. He had a gut feeling that whatever it was emerging from that direction.

"You guys smell something really bad?" Chloe said, quietly.

"Yeah, but it's probably just Sammy. He skipped on his much needed shower this morning," Dean retorted, just as softly.

"I heard that, jerk!" Sam hissed back.

"Oh my god, what if it got Lois?" Chloe said, suddenly.

"That idea just occurred to you?" Dean said, swinging his rifle to the other side.

Chloe shot him the Evil Eye as Dean smirked back.

"Why are we all standing here? I think you guys should just head to my house. I'll stay and speed search," Clark said.

"No way, pal. This is our business. We should definitely split up and search for any traces of sulfur or old relics with the blood of virgins stained on it," Dean countered.

"He's right, Clark. You can use your X-ray vision on the ground with Dean by your side providing his ghoul expertise. While, Sam and I will look for Lois," Chloe interjected.

"Sounds good to me," Sam agreed.

Clark sighed. "Okay, but you two run into danger. You get out of there fast and wait for back up."

Dean nodded to Sam. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Sam frowned. "That's _practically_ nothing."

"Okay, farm boy. This way," Dean said, stalking off into the cornstalks.

Clark turned to Sam annoyed. "Is he always so bossy?"

"Understatement of the year," Sam responded, dryly.

"You keep an eye out on those green weeds you're allergic, too," Chloe added, pointedly to Clark.

Clark nodded meaningfully and went after Dean which left Sam and Chloe alone.

"Ready, Daphne?" Sam said jokingly, with gun firmly in hand.

"Ready, Fred," Chloe answered, smiling.

While the new gang of mystery had come together despite initial conflict they were united in a cause. Little did they know that the cause was watching from afar.

Demon possessed Lois Lane licked her lips slowly as she took in the divided group.

No wonder the earth was stirring. The perfect sacrifice was trudging around all ripe for the picking.

Lois wanted to kick herself for not realizing sooner. She needed to get the boy before _it_ did.

After all, Father had plans.

Plans for Sammy.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - --

_Meanwhile at Luthor Mansion . . ._

Lex Luthor sat comfortably in his cushioned couch enjoying a particularly fine brandy when the doors to his mansion office swung open.

Lex looked up lazily to expect the usual abrupt disturbance of a young Clark Kent but was instead greeted in the lithe form of a twenty something blonde.

"Well, this is a nice surprise. I definitely prefer the sight of a mini skirt than red flannel any day, "Lex said, raising his glass to the young woman.

The young woman named Meg was a bit taken back by his laid back nonchalance but that made it all the more interesting.

Meg smirked and stalked over to him with the coyness of a young filly.

"I didn't know bald was back in fashion," the girl asked.

Lex smirked. "Please, don't bother with flattery. I've developed quite a good immunity for it. Instead, let's just get to business."

The girl slithered up to his body. Her small stature belied the demon soaked in her soul.

She leaned toward his face and Lex refused any flinch at least on surface. He did however set down his glass. Waste not. Especially when its good brandy, he reasoned.

"Are you the one? The host?" she whispered.

"The one what?"

Her small fingertips stroked his check and made its way to his neck.

"Don't tell me you don't know what I'm here for?"

"Are you one of my recent new experiments? I hate to think the good doctor let one of you escape again," Lex said, flatly.

Meg's brow furrowed as her search of the young man's soul revealed nothing but the usual moral corruption of the wealthy. Not a trace of demon inside him. Not one of the Devour's hungry minions.

She squeezed his neck for just a lingering moment like a snake straddling the leg of a stallion.

He was an impressive young man. Meg loosened as his eyes flashed not with black but a seething cold.

"You aren't the one."

"I should think not," Lex said, glibly.

"But you are correct. We have been waiting for you," he continued.

"What are you talking about?"

Lex chuckled softly. "Good lord. You demons are really slow. Hellfire must really incinerate all the better parts of your brain cells. Take a look at the floor under the couch, sweetheart."

Meg flung herself back from the rich man. But it was much too late.

Her eyes grazed the floor with vehemence. "Devil's trap."

Lex shrugged. "Is that what's it called? I just know I was advised by a recent new business partner to take up these rather strange markings for safety. Looks like I was right to be cautious."

Meg snarled and flung her body at the mystical field. She might as well thrown herself at a glass house as her head snapped back and left her hip throbbed down to her toes.

"Why are you working for it? Don't you know what it will bring?"

Lex stood up and circled like a bored spectator. "Of course, I know what it will bring."

He leaned close to the markings and bowed his body to her crouched figure. Meg's eyes shaded to black as the demon uselessly howled within the young woman's flesh.

Lex soaked in the darkness and fury like a dry rag. The high assailing his body far surpassed the earlier consumed brandy.

"The relic in this hick town is going to bring me what I always want even if I have to partner with a Devil."

"What more could you possibly get?" Meg spat.

Lex leaned back down and gripped her chin painfully as he brought her face close to his own.

"What a man can never get enough of . . . . _power_."

* * *

After months, I have finally updated. Whether this is good or bad news is up to you readers. I have written quite a bit so I will be posting a chapter every day for the rest of the week. Also a big THANK YOU to those who have reviewed!

On the next chapter titled "Prey,"

The elusive John Winchester is coming on the scene while Sam and Chloe take on some demons. One of them will not leave the fight in good condition.


	7. Chapter 7

Into a Cornfield Crimson

**Chapter Seven**

_Prey_

The little girl huddled against the cold basement wall. She was scratched raw and trembling like a starving rat. Each sob strung from her body took with it a chunk of her remaining energy. Yet, the figure before her continued its menacing stride.

"Help! Someone help!"she cried, hoarsely.

The flickering apparition fizzled and faded like a bad photograph. If only the little girl had been safely tucked in her bed she would have laughed at the silly spirit.

But there was nothing funny about the multiple knives protruding from its flesh.

Nothing funny about it's hungry blue eyes glued to her image.

And definitely nothing funny about the glint of the kitchen knife in its hand.

She clawed uselessly at the sturdy wall of a basement and gathered the last bit of energy for another cry for help when the basement door suddenly slammed open.

The spirit whirled around hissing at the intrusion.

"Duck down, Amanda!"

The commanding voice was like a jolt to the little girl who swiftly laid flat on the icy floor.

A loud barrage of popping pierced the phantom which howled and seemingly dissipated.

The grizzled, middle aged man with the rifle in hand stepped carefully down the stair and pocketed a small notebook into his jacket as he reached the bottom.

He immediately started to chant what seemed like gibberish to Amanda. She closed her eyes as the phantom howled many times till it's cries seeped into silence.

She did not move again until a heavy hand touched her trembling shoulder.

"It's okay. You're gonna be fine, honey."

His voice was gentle. Thus, she opened her eyes and raised her arms to him.

He hefted her up into his arms. Amanda breathed a mixture of powder, rust and a hint of what might be ginger.

She carefully wrapped her pale arms around his neck as he carried her up the stairs. Her brown hair tickled his ear ans she softly whispered:

"Mommy, said there was no such things as monsters."

He was silent for a bit but once he closed the basement door behind them he answered rather bluntly:

"Well, now you know better. You know you _should_ be afraid of the dark."

Once Amanda was safely returned to her grateful but hysterical mother the man headed out to his pick up truck.

The back of the truck folded out and he fitted the gun into its proper place. As it closed, his cell rang.

"John Winchester, speaking," he answered, brusquely.

He opened the truck door and got in as his joints ached in relief. The voice that answered on the other end of the phone was quite a surprise.

"Jonathan Kent. It's been quite awhile. How have—"

He was cut off by Jonathan's rather anxious words. And the more John Winchester heard, the more cold he grew.

"Martha's all right? Good. Who the hell woke the bastard up, Jonathan?"

John searched under his seat with squinting eyes for a can of Cocoa Cola. It was pitch black outside already and he rummaged around his truck a bit till he found it.

"No, listen you stubborn—"

John sighed and took a swig from his soda can. The carbonated bubbles did little to help his shaking nerves.

"Of course, I don't know what's really going to happen. I barely remember the last time. Most likely, nothing. Don't worry. I'll check it out."

"Yeah, you take care too."

_Damn. _

John tossed the can to the back and leaned back in his seat. He placed a hand over his face in exhaustion.

It was amazing how slick he had become in telling lies. He frankly believed the situation was going to get a lot worse before it got better.

He dialed his eldest son's number on his cell phone. "Pick up, Dean," John mumbled.

The only thing got he got was a busy signal. The second time, the third time and the fourth time.

_Damn, damn damn!_

John started up his truck and swerved out the on to the street as fear gripped his heart. All his five senses were wired and going crazy.

He knew one thing for certain: his son was in danger. And he might not get there in time.

John gripped the wheel as his knuckles turned white.

_Sammy, I'm coming. Please, hold on._

_- - - - - - -_

_Meanwhile with Sam and Chloe . . ._

"You know it's gonna be a really long time before I eat corn again," Chloe whispered, as she and Sam trudged through the field looking for any sign of her cousin.

"Never much a fan of corn myself," Sam said, smiling a little.

"What about Dean? He into the yellow veggie?" Chloe asked.

Sam shrugged. "Dean consumes things other people would consider inedible. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be opposed to it."

Chloe laughed and Sam regarded her speculatively. "So are you subtly trying find out more about my brother due to personal interest?"

Chloe colored just a bit under Sam's gaze. "Uh, no. I was actually trying to dig a bit into _you_."

Sam turned away at that comment and mumbled "Nothing much to share."

_Ouch_, Chloe thought. Did I just get slammed by an invisible wall or what?

But she couldn't help herself from trying. When Chloe looked into Sam's eyes she felt something intense. A feeling usually reserved for a certain resident alien.

"You know I'm gonna try and see if I can get a signal on my cell again. If I can reach Lois on her cell that would definitely lessen our chances of getting eaten by the Thing in the Cornfield," she said, breaking the awkward silence.

Sam was about to agree when he suddenly heard something strange in the wind.

"You hear that?"

"The unsettling buzz of gnats attracted to my Passion Fruit shampoo?"

"Yeah, I hear that. But this is a different sound. . ."

The wind changed direction and suddenly Chloe could hear it also. The wind was murmuring. Softly. Coldly.

"I'm an idiot," Sam commented, quietly.

"What?" Chloe mouthed, anxiously.

"We're surrounded," Sam said, drawing his gun.

Chloe took a deep breath and in that second they lurched from the stalks in a frightening large number.

They appeared to be simple town residents but on second glance they fitted the text book picture of a zombie: Blood hungry and ghastly. Their eyes burned with insatiable hunger and crimson stained their teeth and fingers.

"I am starting to wish I grabbed a gun from your arsenal," Chloe whispered, out of the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah, well I'm more scared that if I survive this my brother's going to kick my ass for being so careless," Sam said.

Chloe felt warmed that Sam was trying to keep her optimistic. Of course, it didn't stop the horrible feeling in her stomach.

Any further thoughts between them were put on hold as the people completely wiped the idea of zombies from their minds. These people . . . no these monsters moved like quick footed predators instead of groaning and slumping idiots.

They barreled in between Sam and Chloe too fast for them to initially react.

The fist blow sent Chloe reeling in to the crisp grass. The front of her teeth smashed into her lower lip which practically transformed her mouth into a bloody fertilizer as blood spewed on the ground in a spotty manner.

A second blow by sharp heel to Chloe's lower back caused her to curl and scream out in ragged pain. Thankfully, the monsters seemed content with that brief attack on her and moved on.

Sam fired his gun in half circle on the converging monsters. Several bullets pierced vulnerable flesh but it did not deter them but for a frightening small bit.

Chloe managed to lift her pounding head and nearly cried out.

They had circled Sam like lions on a lone antelope. Sam swung his gun side to side at a show of keeping them at bay. But it was a fruitless endeavor.

Chloe dragged herself closer and noticed the blood poring from bullet holes on the monsters.

Not good. She had glimpsed the effervescent green that could only come from kryptonite.

Chloe squeezed her eyes shut and though frantically. What can I do? I can't call Clark here! What the hell can I do?!

She opened her eyes as Sam suddenly cried out. One of the monsters had gripped his neck from behind and with its other hand grasped his windpipe.

The sudden cut from breath caused Sam's gun to slip from his hands. Another monster kicked him viciously and Sam fell to the ground.

Blood rushed to Chloe's head. _Oh my god_. _Was Lois ripped apart by these things_?!

Chloe dragged herself up with the sudden adrenaline shooting up her body. She wrenched a cornstalk from its root and walked determined to Sam's aid.

Unfortunately, one of the monster's glimpsed her sudden action and shot toward her.

But Chloe was ready this time. She balanced the stalk and swung with all the might that her petite frame could muster.

It collided into the guy's head with a satisfying snap. The other monsters turned toward their hurt comrade with definite anger.

Sam took advantage of the distraction to roll out of their circle and grab his gun.

"Chloe, get down!"

Chloe dropped and Sam shot wildly at the group who took the bullets as very bad bee stings.

The monsters converged on Sam once more if more vicious. The amount of fists propelled into Sam quickly lead him to lose consciousness. They grabbed his feet and began to drag the hunter away.

"Sam!"

Chloe struggled off the ground and held her stalk firm. Yet, the monster who suddenly shot before her was stopped by a most unexpected thing:

A slender fist was plowed through its rib cage.

Chloe watched briefly interested as a small green pebble popped from its gaping stomach cavity and the monster collapsed.

Chloe's jaw dropped at the person who held the bloody fist.

"Lois?"

* * *

Finally, some action in this story lol. Next chapter will be up tomorrow. 


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